


Collection of Short Works

by WindyWordz



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin
Genre: Abuse, Cutting, Depression, Drama, Drug Abuse, Drugs, Fluff, Kissing, Love, Mental Abuse, Multi, Physical Abuse, Rape, Self-Harm, Sex, Suicide, Verbal Abuse, Yaoi, Yuri, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 09:09:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindyWordz/pseuds/WindyWordz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A general collection of short pieces i've created not really based on any characters in particular except the ones i made up or certain pairings i may use from different fandoms. The chapter summary will let you know the characters and what the chapter is basically about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A househeld feline gets hungry in the middle of the night.

The darkness smothers me after the light's are turned off. I lay there in the bed for a moment, letting my eyes adjust. I can see the ceiling, the posters on the walls slightly reflecting the lamplight that struggles through the window shades. A car drives down the road. The silence fills in after the sound like a thick, chilled soup. The silence is so heavy, it gives off a slight ringing in my ears as they try to grasp desperately for a noise, any noise. A scratch from the attic, a creak from the door. The moaning of the bed frame as I shift onto my side. There's a humming in the distance; perhaps a motorcycle? It's not uncommon for people to go out with their bikes at this hour. Another car drives past.

 

The silence is heavy. It feels like it's crushing me as I curl under the soft blanket. Something creaks in the other room and my ears perk automatically. My eyes are closed but I can still feel the chill of exhaustion through the relaxed lids. There's a light pop from the ceiling. I stifle a yawn but a second one forces its way out. My stomach growls lowly and my ears perk up again. I'm annoyed now. I clamber out of the bed, the cool air outside the blanket sends a shiver across my skin.

 

Carefully, I pad quietly out to the kitchen and feast on leftovers that were left out. The sound seems to echo throughout the house and I pray the others don't wake up and scold me. I drink a few mouthfuls of water before heading back to the quiet room I sleep in. I slide through the door so as not to open it all the way and set off its angry squeaking scream. I quietly slip back onto the bed and under the covers. They're still warm and I lay motionless as the house sings in its own way. The "silence" is heavy but to my ears, it is only background music.


	2. Hallways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A girl who's committed suicide in her school is forced to continue walking the hallways.

The bell rings and I rise from my chair, but nobody notices. Being a double-period class, I didn't have to worry about being tardy. I never did. I walk out the door and settle myself against the wall next to it. The rumble of conversations cascade through the hall as I let my eyes wander, falling over face after unfamiliar face. Others don't even seem to see me as they walk into the various classrooms scattered down the floor. A couple come through the doors from the stairway as a guitarist slides past them. A group of friends stop to chat in the hall before dispersing into their classroom.

 

Watching these people go about their day like they always did, I felt a little lonely. All these kids my age and not one of them gave me a single glance. I guess it's only fair. A sigh left my chest, leaving an aching emptiness that I've felt for as long as I can remember. I lower my eyes for a moment before tilting my head back, my long auburn hair falling over my shoulders to my back. The wall is cool and as I fold my hands behind the small of my back and rest them against it, it sends a shiver up my spine. 

 

I'm leaning against this stone wall and watching the course of an everyday high schooler, wondering if this was what it was always like. Another girl comes around the corner and I watch her trot into the classroom next to mine, passing me without a single glance. Her short brown curls bouncing in her hurry, clutching her binders with nimble fingers I've watched create beautiful sculptures before. She was there for but a moment and then, she was gone.

 

The halls are emptier now and the bell rings for the next period to begin. I walk back into the classroom and sit down as the teacher does roll-call, skipping over my name like every other day. No one looks at me and I glance back towards the door and the empty hallway beyond it, thinking how much that hallway and these faceless people have become such a familiar sight.


	3. Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A woman going through the motions of life during the winter stops to appreciate it's beauty

_The lights of the world are bright and empty, illuminating the blissful lie of life._

_Death becomes a popular sovereign. A blessing that releases us from the tight stitches of Fate's red thread that alone, no one can escape._

_Eventually, we fall into the dark hole created by Destiny, playing it's game._

_The people we meet - but can never touch - slowly start to disappear and are lost; we falter._

_Death offers a relief - sanctuary from Life's tortures and thus, we reach for it._

_But at a high price._

_So why, of all things, does Destiny toy with love, or only emotion stronger than Fear?_

_We must be strong or else everything goes to Hell, and is for naught._

 

 

I think about these things as I walk along the crowded street, the many pedestrians that flow across the sidewalk I pass by without a single glance. Their heavy winter coats folded close to their bodies. Scarves and hoods wrapped tightly around their heads, flowing gently with the chilling breeze. The darkening skies give way to twinkling lights as the street glows under the lampposts. Stars, dim through the smog above the city, flicker and press through the haze, hoping to be seen. I look up as I stop at the crosswalk; the flashing walk sign fading to orange, halting my automated movements. The breeze picks up as the sky falls into the night, the last rays of sunlight dripping behind the buildings.

 

It blows back my hood and the end of my red scarf billows behind me; the wind plays with my hair as I wait. The sign across the street blinks to a dull white. I walk through the throng of faceless people to the other side of the street just as the light changes back to the orange hand. The sound of cars driving by, of countless steps and factory machinery, is all but inaudible through my headphones. The music delegates through my ears and into my brain, turning my thoughts into mindless murmurs in the back of my mind. I can feel my toes numbing through my thick leather boots from the cold; the freezing air biting at my gloved hands and I shove them into my pockets.

 

Another bone-chilling wind ruffles my hair, and the air stills. Slowly, gently, small white flakes drift down from the sky, each one a luminescent white. Like small stars falling from heaven, tremulous and refractive, they collect in drifts and cling to the ground. I blink and look above as they flit past my eyes, my legs slowing to a standstill. As they build their tiny castles on the grimy buildings of the city, the grey sediment in the air dissipates and the lights in the sky shine brighter.


	4. Rumpelstiltskin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a class assignment a year or two ago, where we had to re-write a fairytail from another character's point of view. I used Rumpelstiltskin and wrote it in the king's point of view.

The king was young and he had many maidens that cared to his whishes. However, he was not happy. He felt he was not rich enough and his maidens not quite beautiful. He sought more; he was a greedy man. So, in his early morning duties of listening to the peasant’s complaints, one man came up to him and asked for some portion of money.

“What can you give me in return for the money?” asked the king.

“I have a daughter,” said the miller. “She can spin straw into gold.”

“Then why haven’t you had her spin straw to gold for yourself then?” asked the king. Oh, wasn’t he clever.

“We can afford no straw, my lord, to spin the gold.” Replied the miller.

The king believed this to be a bluff but he decided to humor the miller. “Bring her to me tonight, and I shall test her,” he said. “If she proves herself, you shall be given a generous reward.”

The miller bowed awkwardly in thanks and scurried out of the castle. After the sun had set, the king heard a knock on his large, handcrafted doors.

“Come in, Mr. Miller!” said the king. The door creaked open and the miller walked in with his daughter quietly following him. The first thing the king noticed about her was that she was strikingly beautiful . . . and his own age.

“My lord, this is my daughter.” The miller gestured to his daughter. “As I promised, she is here to spin the gold.” The miller grew quiet as the king came over to the girl and looked her up and down. Then he slapped her in the face and when he looked back into her eyes he saw only determination and… was that pity? The king then turned around and started walking toward

“Hmm, well, I shall lead her to the spinning room, then.” The king said. “Follow me child.” He walked away swiftly and the girl had to trot to stay with the king. He turned hallways, climbed dozens of flights of stairs, took turns this way and that to make sure he confused the girl so she could not possibly leave. He knew this place inside and out since this is where he grew up. Finally arriving at a set of doors equal to that of some of the bedrooms they had passed, the girl managed to catch up and leaned on the wall, breathing heavily.

The king, unfazed, opened the doors and gestured for the girl to go inside. “Come, young lady, and sit at the spinner.” The girl went over and sat down next to the spinner, looking back as the king shut the door and locked it so as no one could get to the girl and she could not get out. The king leaned close to the door and said, “You have until morning to spin all that straw into gold and if you do not then I shall end your life.” He then brought over a chair and was determined to wait until morning. He felt like he was in his study room again as he was taught by private professors. Several servants and advisors came and tried to convince the king to sleep in his own bed but he refused all suggestions and continued to wait. 

His head started bobbing, as the black wave of sleep grew stronger as its high tide came in. He heard quiet sobbing as he finally drifted off into sleep.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

The king’s dreams were filled with memories of his parents, dead now because of a raid, and his siblings, which had all been forced to join the gang. The king had been barely stabbed but it made him bleed and he collapsed next to his dead parents. In their blood he faked his death and thus survived the onslaught. He buried his parents himself; took all of the riches the raiders had left behind or were in secret places, and built his own kingdom, in the same castle he had grown up in; had survived the genocide oh the royal family by the rogues who had taken his brethren.

 

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

The king blinked his eyes open and stretched, completely unaware of his nightmare. He got up and opened the door, fumbling with the jungle of keys on the gold ring, to find the room full of gold and the girl sleeping in a corner. The king blinked his eyes a few times, as if suspecting this was a dream, only half noticing her necklace was now gone. He was excited beyond belief but he wanted more; the gold he had now was not enough. He clapped his hands in a sarcastic applause, making the girl jump awake.

“I’m impressed, my dear. You actually managed to spin all that straw into gold.” The king gave a sly smile. “Oh, but you’re not done yet,” he said as the girl cracked a smile, thinking she was done. He grabbed the girl’s wrist, making her give a small yelp, and dragged her to another, much larger room full of straw with a spinner. He left her in there and said, “If you value your life spin all this straw into gold before tomorrow morning.”

With that he closed the door and locked her in yet again. This time, though, he went to go do his kingly duties. He had meetings, conferences, and King Arthur in Camelot required a meeting with him to discuss the activities of a group of rogues. The king heaved a sigh at the long day ahead. By the time he returned to the room it was very late at night. He unlocked the door and when he opened it he found the girl lying amongst the largest pile of gold the king had ever seen. Now he was simply amazed at the girl’s talent.

He looked over at the girl and started to slowly realize how truly beautiful and talented she really was. He had to put her to one final test, to see if she was worthy of being . . .

“Young lady,” he said as the girl fell out of the gold pile in surprise. _Perhaps not as graceful as she is beautiful_ , thought the king, and he noticed her ring was gone. He cleared his voice, “You have done very well and you are almost done. I have one final task for you. Follow me.” And with that, he walked off and the girl almost tripped over herself as she went to follow him.

The king brought the girl to the biggest room of straw he had and a few servants bring forth a spinner. The girl looked quite saddened at the site of the spinner. The king walked over to the girl and tiled her head by her chin to look at him. Her crystalline eyes looked into his auburn ones. The sadness in her eyes was large enough to cover the ocean and yet, underneath it, was determination. The king flinched slightly, feeling the power of the girl’s eyes, and gently pushed her away.

“Spin all this straw into gold by tomorrow morning and I shall make you my wife, you shall never have to spin gold again.” Before she could say anything, the king and the servants left the room, locking the miller’s daughter in for the third time.

The king went back to his room, a bit shaken by what he had seen in the girl’s eyes. They had looked just like his mother’s. He shook his head and pushed the memory of his mother to the back of his mind. He was confident that the straw would be spun into gold yet again by the girl.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

When the king awoke the next morning he immediately went to the girl’s room and when he opened the door, there, just like he had hoped, was a room filled almost to the brink with gold. The girl pushed herself up sleepily. The king ran over to her and snatched her into a huge hug.

“Thank you, m’lady! You have made me the happiest king alive!” He smiled so big at her that she just had to smile back. He grasped her arms and said, “Tonight, m’lady. Tonight, we shall be wed!” The king pulled the girl by her wrists to the unused Queen’s chamber, called several female servants and attendants to help ready his to-be queen.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

A year later after, the queen brought a beautiful child into the world. The king looked upon it with pride and thought, _I am Good! Look at MY beautiful baby!_ As they were celebrating a small man came up to the king’s queen. The queen started crying and the king hurried over.

“Anything, anything! I’ll give you my necklace, my ring, all the gold! Please, just leave my child.” She cried.

The little man shook his head and said, “No, something alive is dearer to me than all the treasures in the world.”

At this, the queen cried even harder and the king could see that the little man felt sympathetic toward the queen. Finally, after a long silence filled only with the queen’s sobs, the short man said, “I will give you three days time and if by that time you find out my name, then I shall let you keep your child.” With this, he walked out of the castle.

The queen was frantic to find out the small man’s name. She asked the king to send scouts over the whole kingdom, find out every name possible that could be the small man’s name. The king did it all. Everyday the small man came and the king watched as the queen guessed every name collected, but to no avail could she guess the right one. When the man left on the second day, the queen began to weep.

 _What a horrid man, to make my queen weep so._ Thought the king. He then sent out his personal and best advisor to find out the man’s name. When he came back with no other names than had been collected before, the king himself wanted to weep.

“However, my lord,” spoke the advisor. “I came to a mountain at the end of the forest, where the fox and the hare bid each other good night, there, I saw a little house, and before the house, fire was burning. ‘Round the fire was quite a ridiculous little man hopping on one leg shouting:

_"Today I bake, tomorrow brew,_

_the next I’ll have the young queen’s child._

_Ha, glad that I am that no one knew_

_That Rumpelstiltskin I am styled.”_

The king was overjoyed to hear the name and he could see the queen was, too. He hugged her and then gave her a small kiss, which he hadn’t done since their wedding day. On the third day, when the man came in and asked, “Now, mistress queen, what is my name?”

The king snickered to himself, for they knew his name.

The queen pretended to be ignorant of the fact she knew his name, only making the king chuckle more. _What a devilish queen I have married._

“Is your name Conrad?” asked the queen.

“No.”

“Is your name Harry?”

“No.”

“Perhaps your name is Rumpelstiltskin?”

Rumpelstiltskin gasped, “The devil has told you that! The devil has told you that!” The king brought the queen back as the man went into a fit of anger. He plunged his right foot into the earth so deep that his whole leg went in. Then, in blind rage, he pulled at his left leg so hard with both hands he tore himself in two.

As the queen stared at the two pieces of the man who had just tried to take her child, the King laughed and said, “My I’m glad our child wasn’t raised by him. What a delinquent he would have been!”


End file.
